


seaside rendezvous

by mercuryhatter



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Beaches, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 05:35:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18025685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercuryhatter/pseuds/mercuryhatter
Summary: tumblr ask drabble for "write me a south downs thing. beach date or farmer’s market"





	seaside rendezvous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [regencysnuffboxes (malicegeres)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/malicegeres/gifts).



Aziraphale was building a sandcastle between Crowley’s breasts: a spire on the meeting-place of his collarbones, a broad wall of turrets across his waist. Crowley slept soundly through the construction, his skin sun-warmed and beginning, very slightly, to burn. Aziraphale could have stopped the burn, of course, but he could just as easily heal it later, and he rather thought he might like to preserve his right to make fun of Crowley later. He did, however, shift position so the brim of his own wide sunhat shaded Crowley’s face as well as his own. The hatband was filled with delicate pink [bastard balm flowers](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.com%2Furl%3Fsa%3Di%26source%3Dimages%26cd%3D%26ved%3D2ahUKEwjrpKrSmd3gAhUQi6wKHcDLCnMQjRx6BAgBEAU%26url%3Dhttps%253A%252F%252Fwww.plantlife.org.uk%252Fuk%252Fdiscover-wild-plants-nature%252Fplant-fungi-species%252Fbastard-balm%26psig%3DAOvVaw1hNHaf84tlF_hrAd4Uxg_D%26ust%3D1551401008123465&t=NzM4NzJjNGZhODUwMDE4MTE1YTQwZjVhNzFmYzA4NDc4OGI0OTgyMCxHRUk4RG5BYQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AmPX5iOiNkDGZxIUVivC4lQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fgracenchoice.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F183105687871%2Fwrite-me-a-south-downs-thing-beach-date-or&m=1)– Crowley’s little joke, but they were lovely despite their name. One, caught by the sea breeze, drifted down and topped the sand spire, and Aziraphale regarded it with as much pleasure as if he’d thought to set it there himself.  

Crowley stirred under the sweep of the breeze and Aziraphale laid a hand firmly on his forehead. 

“Don’t move, dearest,” he said, smiling down at Crowley’s squinted eyes. “I’m building.” 

“If you say so,” Crowley mumbled, and settled back into the sand to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> the best part about writing this was finding out that bastard balm flowers are a real wildflower that grows in Devon. I'm never gonna get over it.


End file.
